In The Store

by Woodrobin


A new store abutting an old favorite haunt
was it idle curiosity that pulled me there
or a skein of Fate woven long before?

The scent in the air tasted of mystery
frankincense and sage, exotic and ancient
the unexpected hanging in the air

The smile that greeted me was grown, not painted
Not a mannequin courtesy
but a genuine welcoming

On the shelves were unlocked treasures
a careless paged glance garnered a thousand siblings
and a country of my own, a Pagan shore

Things I never would have thought to ask
having no words for the questions
not even knowing that they could be answered

Sometimes I think how a thousand decisions
could have turned time's stream away from that moment
and I wonder at what was and what might have been

Did luck's meandering course bring me there
or were the banks sculpted by unseen hands
each turn shaped by their loving caress?